by Aja Cole
“When do I get to explore you?” she breathes, and I move her legs apart, covering her with my body and kissing her possessively, sweeping into her mouth and settling between her hips.
“Much, much later.” I move from her lips to her neck, pressing greedy kisses along her collarbone and moving to her other ear. “I get to eat first.” Her hips buck at my words and I hide my grin against her skin, pleased.
“But not until you really want it.” I move my cock against her, my thin pants doing nothing to prevent me from feeling the heat of her pussy.
I need to feel her completely.
“If this isn’t really wanting it, I don’t think I can handle more.” She gasps when I shove down the fabric and the length of my cock is bare on her skin.
Shit.
I lean up and put my hands under her knees, widening her legs so I have a full view of her mound. Almost in a trance, I bite my lip as I shift my hips forward, watching and feeling my cock slide against her labia and her clit.
“Mmmm,” she moans, and I repeat the move, feeling her lips part under me every time I glide over her pussy. I feel the slick wetness clinging to my cock, I feel her clit pulsing every time the tip of my cock kisses it, and it’s intoxicating. Once I get my fill of seeing it, I brace my forearms on the bed on either side of her head and lick my way into her mouth. Her thighs close on my hips and she whimpers, nipping at my mouth with her teeth. “Skip the rest.” She closes her eyes, rolling her body.
It’s dangerous, skin on skin. Fuck. I’m way off track. I’m supposed to be taking it slow, but goddamn, she’s so soft and hot and I feel my control slipping away with every second that passes.
I groan, ripping my mouth away from hers and making my way down her body. Her pussy is red and her labia is parted, glistening and ready for me to dive in.
“Ask me to eat you, Nova.” I just need to hear it. Need to hear it. I heard her breath hitch when I said it and her fingers go to her nipples, pinching them between her fingers.
“Eat me, Ash,” she whispers sweetly, decadently. “Please.”
I shudder, gripping her legs and licking from her ass to her clit, and she’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever had on my tongue. I think the shock of it makes her try to close her legs, but I keep them wide, keep her open for me. Warm. Lush. All mine. Her moans and helpless gasps spur me on.
I dip my tongue into her pussy, circling it and gathering up more of her wetness, tasting and savoring every drop. Then I take a finger and massage the entrance, probing gently, making sure I’m not hurting her. When I don’t get a lot of resistance, I press inside, paying attention to her sounds and how tense she is.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” I murmur, looking up her body so I can see her face. God, she’s so damn beautiful.
“I’m okay.” She pulls that lip between her teeth again and I think I’m going to get hard every time I see her do it now. Holding her gaze, I press another finger in and watch her eyelids flutter, those luscious lips parting and the softest moan spilling from between them.
Starting a slow rhythm, I settle my mouth back on her sweat misted skin. Sweeping my tongue up to her clit, I stroke my tongue around it before I suck it gently into my mouth. I could stay down here forever, my fingers filling her pussy and my mouth feeling her clit throb and jump against my tongue.
“Oh my God, right there, yes.” She raises up on her elbows, her husky voice almost desperate, and I keep sipping at her skin, pressing her against me with one hand anchored on her abdomen so she can’t buck away from me. “Ash, Ash, yes,” she whimpers. “Please, please.”
I can feel her body tighten under me and I keep at it, keeping the pressure, keeping my mouth exactly where it is, keeping my fingers driving into her and massaging the walls of her pussy. I want her to come on my face, I want to feel her shaking under me, soaking in the pleasure I’m giving her.
This is just the beginning.
22
Nova
There’s a deep, throbbing ache in my pussy that increases with every second that Ash has his hands and mouth on me.
I’m no stranger to orgasms, but I instinctively know that the one building right now, the one that’s making me shake and tremble under Ash’s experience, will be far more destructive than any other that I’ve had by my own hand.
I’m leaning up on my elbows, barely keeping my eyes open as my toes curl and the pleasure builds. But I have to see him. I anchor a hand in his hair, stroking and gripping, pressing his face into my body. It feels so fucking good, I don’t want him to ever stop.
“Ash.” I tighten my grip, breathless and panting, holding back a scream because the energy needs to go somewhere.
He doesn’t change anything he’s doing, and it’s that relentless pursuit that sends me tumbling into orgasm, my nerves singing and delicious pleasure rolling through my veins and bursting behind my eyelids as I lose time for a second and drop back against the bed, my other hand clutching at the sheets and crushing soft rose petals.
His hands stroke along my skin, petting me as I calm and little aftershocks hit my body. Coming up my body, he shares my taste with me and I lick it from his lips, our kiss sloppy but real.
I feel empty, my walls clenching. I need him inside of me.
“Condom.” He yanks away, producing protection and lube. He puts a drop of lube on his cock and then rolls the condom on, squeezing lube on his fingers, reaching down and massaging my entrance. I tremble a bit, still sensitive. Fucking two fingers into me again, he makes sure that I’m ready.
And I am.
So damn ready, for all of it.
Dripping a little bit more lube onto the tip, he crawls towards me and widens my thighs. Looking up, he holds my eyes steadily, licking his lips.
“Tell me if you want to stop, we’ll take it even slower.”
“Ash, fuck me,” I say simply, throwing nervousness to the wind. This is my Ash. I want it all, and I want it right now.
The sexiest growl leaves his lips and he drops down on one arm, pressing intoxicating kisses to my lips as he uses one hand to line up his erection.
This is it.
I feel the pressure and I try to relax, try to make myself push outwards and make sure I’m not tightening and stopping his entry.
Pressure, so much pressure, and I breathe hard against his mouth, clutching my fingers at his shoulders.
“I’ve got you,” he whispers. “Just you and me.” He slides further, and it’s like that one extra inch is the gateway and the pressure is still there, but it’s decadent now. Inch by inch, he fills me completely and we both breathe hard against each other when our pelvises meet. “You okay?” He kisses me gently, an apology in his touch for the discomfort.
“I’m okay,” I reassure him, loving the unfocused look in his grey eyes. “I’m happy it’s you.”
“It better always be me.” He bites my lip playfully and my hips move instinctively, making us both groan. Watching my face, he pulls back, and it’s such a weird feeling, but it’s a good weird.
“I could get used to this.” On the slow thrust back into me, something sparks at my nerve endings and I inhale, wanting to chase it.
“This?” Eyes like liquid desire, he fills me again and pulls out, body taut.
“Yes,” I gasp, shuddering. “More.”
“I can do more.” He drops his mouth to my ear, laving the contours with his tongue and I curl against him, the feathering sensation sending warm and heavy pulses through me. That, coupled with the repeated drag of his cock in my pussy, feels better than I ever imagined.
I circle his body with my legs, hooking my feet at the small of his back and pushing up to him. We start a frenzied rhythm, mouths on whatever they can reach and hands scratching and roaming over heated skin.
“Nova.” His voice is sensual and unsteady. “God, baby.”
I wrap my arms around his neck, head, digging my hands into his hair and rolling my hips into every thrust that I can. I feel the familia
r pinpricks of pleasure growing under my skin, in my nipples. It feels like my pussy has a heartbeat itself and so does his cock, like we’re connected so deeply that everything is one.
One heart. One rhythm.
Only us.
Burying my face in his neck and clutching him to me, I shatter against him and he fucks into me, hips smacking against mine and riding me through my orgasm as he reaches for his.
“Gonna come,” he grits his teeth. “So fucking close.”
“Come for me, Ash.” His pleasure is my pleasure and when his entire body tenses against me, I imagine that I can feel the heat of his cum inside me and that sends more shivers of pleasure over me.
We hold each other like that for a long moment, and I lay kisses to his damp forehead, pushing back his hair and trailing my fingers over his skin.
“I love you,” I whisper, choking up. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too, baby. Always.” He frames my face with his hands and gives me the most loving kiss, one that I can feel down to my bones. “Happy birthday.”
“Thank you.” I close my eyes and hold on tight.
I’m never letting him go.
23
Asher
“Babe!” I call out, hefting my gym bag on my shoulder as I step inside the front door, “You wanna order pizza tonight? The guys have requested a meat lover’s.” I like the guys that Elias has assigned to Nova more than I like him.
I need a few more days of not seeing his face before I don’t feel like smashing it in.
We were supposed to have dinner with Nova’s parents tonight, but they said something came up and they need to postpone.
That pissed me off because it’s one more day that Nova’s in these crosshairs.
She doesn’t respond, but I smell something cooking and I’m swamped with a feeling of déjà vu so intense that I freeze.
It smells like the jambalaya my mom used to make. The last time she made it was a few weeks before her car accident.
There was no other driver, no crash, and no negligence was discovered. It was late, raining pretty hard, and the visibility on the roads was just bad.
It could’ve happened to anyone. It was just a bad shake that it was the woman who gave the warmest hugs and pressed loving kisses to my forehead without fail when I left for school.
They said that she died on impact with the wall, and that was comforting for me when I was younger because I just kept thinking that at least it didn’t hurt, at least my mom hadn’t been in pain.
She called us before she left work, saying she was about to leave, and asked my dad to start dinner. It was one of the nights that my dad was home because it was a Wednesday, and Wednesday was family dinner, no matter what.
I got more than a lot of kids did.
I got to tell my mom I loved her and I got to hear it from her one last time before she was gone forever.
I walk into the empty kitchen, my chest tightening when I see the large pot and the dishes in the sink, the familiar ingredients on the counter.
“I didn’t hear you come in.” I turn around and see Nova, an apron around her neck and tendrils of hair sticking to her cheek. It looks like she’s had a food war; there’s a few spots on her front and a smudge of something on her cheek.
“Yeah.” I don’t know what to say.
“I’m making jambalaya,” she says, shaking her head and laughing a little. “Obviously. I wanted to be done when you got here and a bit more cleaned up. Surprise.” She comes closer and takes my hands, and I can tell she’s waiting for my reaction.
Her eyes are cautious, and my gaze slides back to the stove, realizing that it’s my mom’s pot. It was the only one she used for it, because it was passed down in her family.
My mom was born and raised in Louisiana, and she moved to Florida after graduation when she got a job with a non-profit that helped young single mothers find solid ground if they needed help.
I remember there not being a dry eye at her funeral, and I still remember how many people came out in droves to pay their respects.
“You visited my dad.”
“I wanted to do something meaningful. You’re the one that’s really good about being thoughtful, so I thought maybe he’d give me a good place to start.” Her eyes widen a little and she squeezes my hands. “Be honest, it’s okay if you hate it. I know that—”
“I don’t hate it,” I interrupt her. “It’s just…a lot to take in. I remember the last time she made it. Sometimes I wonder if all of my memories are even accurate, or if I’m adding stuff to them, but I remember that day clearly.”
I take a deep breath, and wipe away the dusting of flour on her cheek. “Although, I don’t remember flour being in the recipe.”
“It’s cornstarch,” she corrects me. “I might’ve made dessert, too. This one sourced from a friend of mine who said that it’s really good.”
“You were a little Betty Crocker today, hm?”
“I wanted to do something nice for you.” Her face softens and I raise her chin, kissing her lightly. “But don’t thank me until you taste it. Your dad had her old family recipe book in the basement and he let me borrow it so I could try to do everything to a tee.”
There’s a spreading warmth in my chest knowing that she’d try to recreate something I associate so heavily with love and happiness.
“I miss her everyday.”
Nova twines our fingers together and brings both my hands to her lips, giving each a lingering kiss.
“There’s not a doubt in my mind that she would be so proud of the man you are today, that she is proud.” She drops my hands and slides her arms around my body, hugging me tightly. Caught up in my own emotions, it takes me a second to register it, and I finally wrap my arms around her.
I swallow back hot tears, burying my face in her hair.
I hope she is. God, I hope she is.
“I try to make her proud,” I whisper, clutching her, needing her as my anchor. “Everyone talked about how selfless she was. How kind. How she always thought about other people. To me, she was just Mama.”
“You do, Ash. You do. You’re the best man I know.” I hear her sniffle and I pull back, tipping up her face. Her cheeks are wet.
“Why are you crying?”
“My waterworks seem to turn on when yours does.” She laughs a little. “I don’t like seeing you hurt like this.”
“It’s a good hurt.” I use my shirt to wipe my face, nodding. “It’s painful, yeah, but…I don’t talk about her enough. Maybe it’s time for me to change that.”
“I’m always here to listen. About anything, you know that.”
I take her hand in mine, walking to the stove and taking the lid off the jambalaya, inhaling the familiar aroma.
I’d forgotten about that recipe book, with its weathered pages and scribbles on every page where different family members added their own tweaks and notes.
“So my dad knows we’re together now?”
“Yep, and he was ecstatic. He’s really different from how I’m used to seeing him, it was bizarre. I mean, who ever thought they’d see Weston King in hemp sandals with long hair?”
“Nobody is more shocked than I was, but it’s been an interesting and amusing ride.”
“He asked if I wanted tea or kombucha.”
“He makes his own, you know. And yogurt, too. Chock full of probiotics.” She looks at me in shock and then we both dissolve into laughter, mirth spilling from our lips.
“This is what I remember when I think about her, when I smell this.” I look down at the deep red mix of andouille, spices, and rice. “Laughter. Love. Family.”
“I want to give you that.” She caresses my arm and leans against my side, resting her cheek on my bicep. “I can’t promise I’ll be perfect, but I want you to be happy. I want to make you happy.”
I turn her to face me, hoping that my kiss says everything that I’m feeling in this moment. How appreciative I am that she’s given me this new mem
ory mixed with the old.
“You do, baby.” I hold her close, breathing her in and imagining I can feel my mom’s spirit here, see the warm smile that would be on her face when she’d let me taste from her big spoon. “You do.”
“Okay, so dessert is bread pudding with whiskey sauce.” She breaks away, pushing back more of her wayward dark hair.
“I’m never letting you out of the kitchen now,” I tease, taking down bowls.
“As long as you’re with me, I’m happy right here.”
24
Nova
“Play something for me.”
Asher keeps sifting my hair through his fingers as I lay on his lap, eyes closed. We’ve been enjoying each other’s company like this for about an hour, stuffed with good food.
I’m happy that I was able to give him a new good memory, and that I didn’t fuck up the recipe.
Thank God I can follow directions.
“What do you want me to play?” His touch is so relaxing, and I’ve been on the verge of falling into a food coma ever since I laid down.
“Hmmmmmmm,” I muse, peeking an eye open. “Performer’s choice.”
“That means you have to get up, you know.”
“Oh, I thought I’d just lay here and you summon your guitar over here.” I stick my tongue out, sitting up and leaning against the back of the couch. He musses my hair as he gets up and I swat him away.
I admire his ass when he walks over to his stand and grips the neck of the instrument. I don’t pull my eyes away fast enough and he turns around, a mock offended look on his face.
“Were you checking out my ass?”
“You spend so much time working out, the least I can do is appreciate your efforts.” I twirl a strand of hair in my finger, affecting a flirty look. Or trying to, at least. Who knows, maybe I actually look constipated and he’s too kind to say anything.
